


Step UP,  Monsters!

by MorseCode312



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, Dancetale, Eventual Smut, F/M, Parody, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Slow Burn (probably), Step Up!, Undertale AU, humans are dicks, reader identifies as female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9342932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorseCode312/pseuds/MorseCode312
Summary: EDIT: DISCONTINUED.It was a simple plan. Mess up a couple things, and don't get caught.Well, they got a bit carried away.Now Sans is forced to serve 200 hours of community service at a pristine humans-only dance college.Only...it's not JUST for humans anymore.And when Sans meets Y/N, a dedicated dancer trying to make ends meet, the two share an unlikely bond.Will Sans be able to see humans aren't really that bad?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of parody for the movie Step Up!  
> I think it's a fantastic turn of events for the Undertale AU, Dancetale, and although I tweaked a bunch of details and whatnot, it more or less follows the same plot.  
> So.....  
> There you go.

The bass of the music nearly shook the walls of the old warehouse building. Nobody seemed to care, however. The inhabitants of the building were too busy enveloping themselves in what a good time they were having.

Creatures of different shapes, sizes, and colors gathered together in different groups. While some were far from human, they widely behaved like them. These creatures, monsters, had surfaced some time ago from beneath Mt. Ebott. While it took some time to integrate the new species into society, they were fully blended with humans now.

This party, however, was mainly run by humans, with a small percent of monsters weaving in an out of the crowd, determined to have a good time.

Underneath the loud music, a soft giggle could've been heard. It came from a feminine-looking flame monster, who was blushing and giggling underneath the gaze of a particular human. They were quite tall, wearing a hooded sweatshirt with a red heart sewn onto the front. Their brown hair was messy, falling over their forehead. Their eyes were half lidded in a relaxed, but charming way. And they seemed to sparkle as they flirted with the monster.

"Frisk!" They tried to ignore the new distraction, leaning in close to whisper more sweet nothings into the monster's ear.

"Frisk! Frisk! Frisk!" The voice continued to pester and prod until Frisk gave up, whirling around to look at the source. It was a shorter lizard-like creature, with a long yellow sweater that had no armholes. Not that it mattered, though. The little monster didn't have arms anyways.

"What do you want MK?" Frisk nearly hissed, casting an apologetic glance towards the other monster. She simply giggled again, walking off. Frisk groaned softly, knowing their chances had been screwed.

"I wanna go home now, " Monster Kid said. "This isn't fun anymore. Sans went and ditched me."

"It's like you expected something different, " Frisk rolled their eyes. "I don't know why you try to come to these things, MK. You don't even dance."

"I just wanna hang out with you guys!" He protested. "Can we just go home?"

Frisk sighed, giving in. They motioned for Monster Kid to follow, weaving their way through the crowd and down a set of stairs that led to a lower level of the establishment. It had framework that was more stable, allowing the DJ to blast music even louder down here. It was also where the dancefloor was set up.

Frisk was sure Sans was down here.

Sure enough, their friend was moving to the beat to the crowd. It appeared that he had acquired a human dance partner, one that was eagerly grinding her hips and twisting her shapely body in time to the hooded figure next to her. They were dancing a but close, their faces nearly touching as they teased each other.

What neither of them noticed however, was the small group of unhappy humans that were watching them. The leader, a male, had begun to get fed up with the display, and pushed his way through the crowd and over to the couple.

"How 'bout you stay with your own kind, freak?!" He spat, shoving the hooded figure back away from the girl. She seemed to want to protest at the violence, but she kept it to herself, blending in to the crowd.

"Heh. Ya might wanna watch it buddy, " Sans warned, his hood still pulled up over his face. Underneath the dark sahde from his hoodie, a cyan glow began to emit from what appeared to be one of his eyes. Seeing this, Frisk and Monster Kid were by his side at an instant.

"Sans, don't do anything stupid," Frisk muttered, trying to pull their friend away from the heated conversation. The human hadn't tried to back down.

"I don't even understand why you stupid monsters have to ruin everything. It's bad enough they let you into society, but you've crossed the goddamn line trying to get with our women," the guy spat. His attention turned to Frisk. "And _you_. You're the one we get to thank for this mess. What? You reject your own race for a bunch of stupid monsters-?!"

During his rant, a blue glow surrounded his figure, snatching him up and forcing the lapels of his jacket into Sans' hands. The fingers were the only exposed parts of his hands, the rest hidden by a black pair of fingerless leather gloves. They were thin, and looked very pale. Upon closer inspection, they seemed to have a bone-like appearance to them.

Sans growled softly leaning in towards his captive. "Say one more thing about my friends here, and you're gonna have a ** _bad time_**." He threatened.

The rest of the human's gang had drawn their weapons from underneath their coats, pointing them at the monster. Sans let the human go, his hood pulled back a bit to reveal his face. His eye was still glowing, and the other socket was pitch black. The grin on his face was menacing. He put his hands up carelessly, giving in to Frisk's tugs as the three retreated, leaving the humans to gather around their leader as they left the party.

  
"Those guys don't know what they're talking about," Monster Kid broke the silence between the three, as they walked solemnly down the back alley behind the building. Frisk brought up the rear as Sans walked a bit ahead of them, his hands shoved into his blue jacket. Frisk knew his friend well enough to know that he was beyond pissed.

"MK's right, Sans. They've got their egos shoved too far up their assholes to see how stupid they're being." Frisk tried to say, jogging a bit to catch up. Monster Kid did as well, nearly stumbling in the process, and Frisk had to catch him before he fell on his face. Again.

Sans grumbled something unintelligible as they walked.

"They don't understand that dancing's part of you guys. And besides, it's not like you were interested in the girl. She really wasn't even your type anyways," Frisk said.

Sans couldn't help but snort at this observation. "And how'd ya come to that conclusion?"

Frisk smirked a bit, chuckling. "I could just tell." They said. "I've always had a knack at telling people's character, and hers just didn't match up to yours."

Sans smiled faintly at his friend. "Glad I got ya to keep me straight," he said.

"C'mon Sans, " Frisk giggled, "you know I'll always have your back."

The three snickered. "Gotta _hand_ it to ya, Frisk, you keep me from taking too many _wrists_ , " he said.

"Eye see what you're saying," Frisk snorted. "You _knee_ -d friends like us to keep you on your feet."

Sans laughed. "You're getting pretty good, kid. Been practicing?"

Frisk shrugged. "People seem to like puns. Thought it might give me an advantage in the field."

"Welp, you've certainly made some growth," Sans chortled.

"Okay guys," Monster Kid groaned playfully. "We gotta cut it out." They all broke into a fit of laughter.

"Hey lookit that," Frisk sighed when they had calmed a bit. The other two looked up at the brick building building adjacent to them. The backside of the building looked bland enough, but they each knew what it was.

It was a dance school. For _humans_.

Sans felt his sour mood returning a bit. The school was highly recognized, and, despite the fact that the monsters were quite talented in their dance cultures, their applications had been rejected for quite some time. It seemed like having monsters in their showcases would cause a bad rep for the school, and they'd lose their "talented" humans.

To monsters, humans were as talented as disheveled amalgamates.

"Follow me, " Sans said, crossing the street and making his way towards the school. Frisk and Monster Kid looked uneasy, but reluctantly followed him.

"Sans, what are you--"

_Smash!_

They flinched at the sound of broken glass. Sans had kicked in one of the lower windows, and was now proceeding to climb into it.

 "Sans!" Frisk hissed, looking around before pulling Monster Kid close to them,  climbing into the window after him. Under the cover of night, it made it easier to slip in undetected. The glass breaking, however, was sure to go noticed by _somebody_...

Frisk looked in Sans direction as he turned a 180, taking in the view. They had to admit, it was incredibly high-class indeed. The wood beneath their feet was polished, and the air smelled faintly of art utensils, body sweat, and cleaning wax. 

"Oh wow!" Monster Kid exclaimed. "Look over here, guys!" 

Sans and Frisk hurried over to the entrance of what appeared to be an auditorium,  where they no doubt held their annual showcases. At the moment, it was decorated with handmade columns and expensive-looking equipment. 

Sans grinned widely, and Frisk frowned at the plan they noticed was forming in his mind. They blinked, and Sans was onstage,  looking over the students' handiwork. 

_Crash!_

"What are you doing?!" Frisk asked in near-horror. 

"A bit of redecorating, why?" Sans replied casually, knocking over another pillar. They all watched it crumble to dust as it landed on its side. 

"Cool!" Monster Kid grinned, jumping onstage with Sans. He swung his tail out, knocking over a vase. The two proceeded to make a wreck of the stage and the props arranged upon it.

"Guys, I don't think this is a good idea," Frisk said uneasily, watching their friends destroy the stage. 

"Oh c'mon kid, don't tell me ya don't think these guys don't deserve it, " Sans said. "After all, it was their decision to keep us monsters off this stage. A little rebellion never hurt anybody." 

" _Hey! What're you guys doing_?!" Another voice hissed.

Sans' eyes went dark as the patrol guy slid into view. Everything went too fast. The guard ran forward, snatching up Monster Kid. Sans appeared in front of the guard, managing to wrestle the poor kid out of his grip before tossing him into Frisk's arms. The guard grabbed Sans in a headlock, keeping him immobile. Frisk held Sans' gaze once more, frightened. Sans motioned for them to scram, and Frisk took the hint. The pair was gone in an instant, and Sans was at the mercy of the guard. 

Today was just a **great** day...

 

* * *

 

 

You lifted your head up towards the dark sky, watching the bright stars begin to fade softly with the growing light of the sunrise. The salty smell of the sea filled your nose, calming you. Your chin then rests on top of your folded hands as you lean against the rusty pipes that acted as a barrier between you and the rushing waters below. This was your sancuary. Your domain. The place where you came to think, the place you came to when you needed to relax.

And boy, did you need to relax right now...

A soft ringing in your back pocket distracted you. Heaving a sigh, you reach back and pull it out. It's a text message, sent from one of your best friends from the school.

**Sami: You need to get here. NOW.**

Well, there went your relaxing morning.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is forced to face the music...and his brother.
> 
> You're asked to change your routine.

Sans sat on the bench outside the courtroom, arms crossed over his chest. A Manila envelope was nearly crushed in his grip. He couldn't let it suffer too much though, his brother had requested to see it in order to fully understand what exactly his brother's punishment was. 

200 hours. 

200 hours of community service in order to repay the damage he caused. This was due to the "mercy" of the headmaster at the school. Of course, the sentence could've been worse. Or better, according to his lawyer, if he had chosen to identify his partners. But Sans refused to rat out his friends. Monster Kid wouldn't have lasted under punishment. And Frisk, well...

Frisk didn't _do_ anything. 

"Sans! There you are!" Sans hardly flinched at his brother's rather loud tone. What may have come off as obnoxious was the norm for Papyrus. Sans still didn't respond, however, even when the rather tall figure knelt down in front of him, a worried expression on his usually perky features. He must've come straight from work this time, seeing as he was still fully dressed in his business attire; a two-piece suit with a neatly ironed jacket. His briefcase sat next to him, momentarily forgotten.

" 'sup bro?" Sans finally greeted him, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. His blue hood was pulled up to conceal most of his features, and had been like that throughout the short "trial" he was given.

Papyrus sighed at his older brother in what felt like disappointment. "Tell me...how bad is it this time?"

Wordlessly, Sans handed over the folder. Papyrus looked nervous to open it. When he did, his eye sockets glanced over the words typed to the paper, the judge's signature, as well as Sans' own. He sighed again. "At least you'll get to do something productive," he said, most likely in an attempt to make his brother feel better about his punishment.

It didn't.

In fact, Sans probably looked deeper into the comment than was intended. It stung a bit, to be honest. Dancing was his life. Even before Frisk freed them from the Underground, he had grown attached to his dancing. And like him, most of monsterkind did as well. It became their way of life. However, the pressure from the opposing humans had made it harder for monsters to continue their passion. Papyrus was one of those monsters, sacrificing his love for dancing in order to better fit into society, working for one of the local business offices in town. Sans wasn't about to give it up for a bunch of humans. Dancing was productive to him, even if it wasn't for _them_.

But instead of calling his brother out, who didn't mean for the comment to be taken as an insult, Sans forced another smile. "Yeah. Sure, Paps."

* * *

"What?!" You nearly shrieked, despite the cool and collected attitude you had tried to put together. You knew something was wrong the moment Sami called you in. 

But you hadn't expected it to be this bad. 

"We don't have enough time to recreate all the props," your instructor explained. "It took the art department over four months to create everything. We only have two before the Showcase." 

"But coming up with a whole new routine? That's a bit much, isn't it?" You tried to reason. 

"As much as I loved the set routine we developed, it wouldn't fit without the props we had. There's enough time. Besides, it's just you and Derek, this time, isn't it?" She asked, hopeful that you wouldn't try to argue about this now. 

You were exasperated. A part of you wanted to demand if she knew how hard it would be to come up with an entirely new routine, without any props or scenery of any kind. 

Of course, you already knew that she had been in your shoes at least more than once. 

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you pondered this. It's not like you had a choice, anyways. It was either this, or not participating in the Showcase this year. 

Again. 

You couldn't afford to make that mistake again. To say your career depended on featuring in the showcase was more of an understatement. It was more along the lines of, the rest of your life depended upon whatever resulted from this year. 

Talk about pressure, right?

"Alright, I'll talk to Derek and see if he's got anything. At least we have some time," you mutter unhappily. Your instructor, on the other hand, claps gleefully, more excited about not having to argue anymore on the whole ordeal than anything else. 

At least _someone_ was happy. 

* * *

 

Sans was _definitely_ not happy right now. 

He stood in front of the high-class dance school, an apparent grimace on his face. This place would be his life from now on, until he managed to out together the whole 200 hours of service. 

Not to mention, Papyrus hadn't allowed him ti even go home yet. Instead, he insisted that Sans go and at least try to "make a dent" in his hours. 

It was currently 10 o'clock in the morning. 

He'd been awake since yesterday afternoon. 

And now he'd have to power through at least a whole day of work before he'd be able to rest. 

Just **lovely**.

Muttering under his breath, he put one sneaker in front of the other and made his way into the building. 

Suddenly, Sans felt like he was in high school again, a small body caught against the wave of a billion more. The school seemed packed to the brim, students of different talents and ages and backgrounds bustling to and fro in efforts to make their time here well spent. 

The smell of body odor was much stronger now. 

As he walked, Sans kept his head low, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He hated it. He hated being here. He hated every human in this entire building. He wanted to go on and say that he hated all of humanity. 

But Frisk was, undeniably,  a human. 

And he didn't hate Frisk. He couldn't. 

Shaking his head, he pushed his way through the crowd, looking for the headmaster's office. They were the one he was supposed to report to, whoever _they_ were. 

Finally, after seeing nothing but rooms and rooms filled with ballet dancers and the oh-so-talented freestylers, he came across the room he was looking for. Sans barely bothered to knock before letting himself in. 

He did not expect to see the Queen of Monsterkind sitting at that desk, a little cellphone pressed under her ear as she quickly began to wrap up the conversation she was having. 

"Yes. Thank you. Goodbye." She said, putting the phone down neatly on her desk. Her attention turned to Sans, her expression turning dark. 

"T-tori?" He asked. 

"Sans." She addressed him solemnly. "Have a seat." 

He quickly plopped down into the chair in front of her desk, not quite understanding what was going on. 

"Now," she started sternly, "would you like to tell me what exactly you were doing here last night, breaking and and entering, and then destroying my students' hard work?"

"Your students?" He asked almost incredulously. "The humans are your students?" 

"My question first." She didn't even bat an eye. 

Sans gulped, trying to ease his discomfort. "I was, y'know, just..." He couldn't find the right words. What to say in this situation? _I wanted revenge on the humans for manipulating our way of life?_

Probably not the best way to go about this. 

Toriel didn't need to hear more. "I understand you're sore at the human race for the grief they have caused us in the past," she said,  her voice bordering on genuine understanding. "However, you still haven't begun to realize just how much of a problem you have caused, have you not?"

"Can't say that I have," he said honestly. Still,  at the same time, could he bring himself to care? After all, those rich, stuck up humans could afford the damage he caused, he was sure. 

"Sans, this is a truly special school. We do not simply teach people to dance or sing or create, we implore them to harness their uniqueness, and to use it to their advantage as a way to make something of themselves. In this society, it is hard enough to make a living." Toriel stood, hands behind her back, as she made her way around the desk. Sans swallowed, unable to forget that she was still royalty. "We also do not enforce payment. In fact, a vast majority of the students you've seen on your way here have applied with scholarships from the school itself. We pay for nearly all students to attend this school.

"The damage you've caused is highly irreplaceable. Countless weeks and months and hours have been put into creating that display that you managed to destroy in less than ten minutes. And not to mention,  the monetary damage. Was that part not revealed to you either?" Toriel leaned her hip against the desk a bit, arms now crossed over her chest. 

Sans shook his head silently. 

"Allow me to put it to you this way, " she said. "As I've mentioned, almost every student here is depending on their scholarship in order to maintain their education here. The total cost of the damage you created nearly doubles the cost of one student's tuition. **Do you understand what that means, Sans**?" 

Again, Sans shook his head. 

"It means," her glare turned colder. "You basically cost two students their scholarship here." 

"That's my problem?" Sans blurted. "The humans have taken way more from us than that, and you actually expect me to _care_ about their dreams?" 

Toriel nearly snarled in anger at his uncaring attitude. She composed herself quickly, taking in a steady breath. "This sort of attitude will not be tolerated. The students here deserve their chance of making it in this cruel world." She paused. "I sincerely hope that your attitude will change soon. It would be a shame if you had to serve out your punishment another way." 

Sans felt a cold shiver fall down his spine. 

She eyed him, almost with distaste. "Not all humans are as evil as you make them out to be, " she said, straightening herself. "Follow me." 

It took a moment for him to pry himself from the chair, having shrunken down so far into it. He hadn't been expecting this. He hadn't been expecting any of this. Especially not one of his own kind, leading a school that would deny their own admission. Especially not Toriel. 

As he followed the Queen out the door and down the now-empty hallway, he didn't know what to expect anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toriel is fun to write!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've got a crush on your partner (for now mweheheheh)
> 
> Sans has more surprises

You stood against the far wall inside one of the studios in the school, waiting for your dance partner to arrive. Apparently, Derek had not been made aware of their new situation, giving you the privilege of doing so. 

You sighed, gripping your phone a bit tighter against your thigh. Ever since the news had been broken to you, you had been trying to come up with a new basic routine in your head. But after everything that has happened so far this morning, your concentration was dancing on a thin line. And the irony was, it was doing a better dance than whatever you were currently trying to come up with. 

Growling softly in frustration, you gathered your hair in your hands and pushed it back slowly, stretching your forehead up as well. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in hopes to steady your thoughts. It wasn't the first time you were asked to change something. You could come up with a new dance easily. It was just you and your partner Derek, and that fact alone made the situation a little less chaotic. 

Choreographing a routine for a small group of students would be _much_ worse. 

The doors of the studio opened then, and you looked up to see Sami jogging across the floor towards you. She was dressed in a pair of baggy shorts and a loose tee, and her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She slowed a bit when she was close enough, eventually stopping in front of you. She put her hands on her thin waist and looked at you. 

"Derek not here yet?" She asked. 

"Not yet," you sighed. 

"Didja hear about the guy responsible for it?" Her blue eyes glistened with a bit of excitement. 

"No, what about him?" You weren't too excited talking about the guy who came too close to ruining your life. Sami, on the other hand, shifted her feet a bit, the smile on her face widening in her excitement. 

"Well, turns out, he's a monster, just like the Headmaster, " she revealed. 

Okay, you were a tiny bit interested now. "Is he? Do you know what kind?" 

The school didn't have too many monster students, even though plenty of them were undoubtedly talented. When the new headmaster came into office, the school was simply buzzing with excitement. The previous headmaster had been so biased against the creatures, which made it impossible for their applications to get accepted into the school. With this relief of a change, you were sure you'd be seeing a lot more monsters now. And that didn't bother you one bit. 

"Nope, not yet. I just know that he's got one heck of a punishment. Over 200 hours of community service." 

Your eyes nearly bulged. 200 hours was nothing to sneeze at. With a bit of math, you could've determined that he would have to work about 8 hours a day for nearly a month to pay off that kind of punishment. 

Sami seemed to agree with the look on your face. 

"That's ridiculous," you sighed. 

Suddenly, your name echoed across the room. Both you and Sami looked over to see the source -- it was a young man, older than you give or take a few years, with a modest tan, dark eyes, and fair hair that threatened to fall over his eyes. He dressed himself in a form fitting tee and jeans that hugged his hips. 

You'd be lying to yourself had you claimed ti not have a teensy sorta crush on your partner. 

"Hey Derek," Sami said to him, casting a knowing glance in your direction. You ignored it. 

"Hey. So what's up?" He turned to you. 

"Well, here's the thing," you started. In total honesty, you didn't really know how to word the situation all of a sudden. The original dance you had come up with was already memorized for the both of you -- you had practiced and rehearsed until it was just as natural as breathing. You didn't doubt his reaction would be just as, if not more, negative than yours had been. 

Sami said it for you. "Someone trashed the stage and all the props on it. There's nothing to salvage, and there's not enough time to make replacements." 

He looked shocked. "And the routine?" 

"We have to come up with something else," you said. "We still have about two months left until the Showcase. That'll be enough to come up with something." 

"Have you gotten anything yet?" He asked curiously.

"I just found out an hour ago," you said quietly. "I'm not too happy about it either."

"And what about the dude behind it? What happened to him?" 

"200 hours of community service."

"...That's all?" 

"Yeah, apparently the headmaster took pity on him and gave him a less harsh punishment," Sami said. 

"She let him off easy," Derek grumbled. "That's stupid."

"It's fine," you said, not wanting to risk the conversation taking a wrong turn. "We need to get started coming up with a new routine."

"Let's just recycle the old one," Derek said, his tone thoughtful. "At least that way, we still have the basic choreography. We can modify it here and there so it works out better." 

You had to admit, the idea wasn't half bad. Derek was certainly a genius when it came down to it. 

"You two have fun with that, I gotta rehearse with my group for a bit," Sami said, shouldering her bag. As she turned and walked out, she called over her shoulder: "And good luck surviving the heat!" 

You groaned softly. The air conditioning in the building had broken several days ago, and even though it was only spring, the building felt like a sauna towards the middle if the day. 

"A little heat won't hurt us," Derek shrugged it off, and did the same with his shirt. You contained the flush of your cheeks as your eyes swept his figure discretely. 

You took in a steady breath. "Yeah. Sure. Let's do this." 

* * *

 

Sans was near silent as Toriel led him down the hall. Her posture was stiff, and he could feel the anger radiating from her outward appearance. He was almost scared to see what her SOUL looked like. 

He was now starting to rethink his life decisions a bit. Now, not only was the Queen of Monsterkind cross with him, he was supposed to go to work for the next month or so in order to obtain his hours. 

Still, he couldn't deny a part of him believed that the vengeful act was necessary. The humans were never going to change their downwards thinking towards monsters, so why couldn't he have some fun with it? Either way, monsters were still going to be seen as below humans, so there was no point in trying to make it seem otherwise.

"As part of your community service," Toriel's voice nearly startled him. "You will be assisting our janitorial staff in making sure this building is running smoothly. We've been shorthanded for quite some time, so you won't have to worry about not having something to occupy your time." 

Sans internally groaned. As if the situation wasn't bad enough. Now he was going to have to work underneath a bunch of humans to clean up the building for the rest of the snot nosed humans. He didn't doubt they'd try and take advantage of him. 

They stopped in front of another door, which had a label mounted to it on a gold plate. "This is the Janitor's Closet," she said. "This is where you will check in with your supervisor, the head of the staff. He will give you your daily tasks, and report back to me. It is also where you will store your tools neatly before you leave. Everything will be neat and tidy before you leave." 

There was a heavy thud on the other side of the door. Sans could have sworn a small smile crossed Toriel's features. 

"A bit of warning," she said softly,  "Gerson isn't the most agile or graceful creature. Do be patient with him." 

Gerson?

The name striked Sans as familiar.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and black smoke billowed out, causing the two other monsters to cough violently as they stepped back. 

"Dangnabbit!" Another ragged cough joined theirs as a figure stumbled out, waving their arms out to fan away the smoke. When the smoke had cleared enough to see who it was, Sans swore he was still choking on the smoke. 

Gerson was also a monster, and a rather elderly one at that. He was a tall tortoise with a hunched posture, wearing a dark blue jumpsuit underneath his shell. He had a graying hair, of which was gathered at the sharp point of his chin, and on his head, which was covered mostly with a faded blue baseball cap. On the curve of his nose was a pair of old spectacles, and one of his eyes were screwed shut. The other flickered over to Toriel. 

"Mah 'pology, Miss Toriel," he coughed violently into a thick scaley hand. "The air conditionin' 's dried up worse than a moldbygg in the middle of Hotland." 

"It is quite alright, Gerson," Toriel smiled fondly down at him. "You have been doing what you can for the moment, and for that I am grateful. I am sure you will be able to fix it soon." 

"Y're too kind, Miss, " Gerson gave her a toothy grin; a majority of his teeth were missing, the few he did have snagging to his lips when he closed them. 

"I have also brought you help, " she said softly, gesturing towards Sans. Gerson looked at him suddenly, his one good eye scrutinizing him carefully. Sans felt himself fidget uncomfortably underneath the sharp gaze. 

"Ah don' need 'im," he protested stubbornly, turning to Toriel. " 's bad enough I gotta deal wit Woshua an' his issues. I ain't tryin' tah be dealin' wit a troublemaker like 'im."

"I insist, Gerson," Toriel urged gently. "You've been so busy lately and Woshua has been tiring himself out so. It would be nice for the two of you to have a bit of help for a while." 

He seemed reluctant to give in. Toriel kept her kind and patient smile until he sighed and gave in, smiling again as well. "Y'know ah can never say no tah you, Miss Toriel." 

"Delightful, " she said, pleased. "I guarantee you that Sans will not be anymore trouble than he already has been.  _Isn't that right Sans?_ "

Sans perked up at her tone, nodding his head quickly. He was quite aware she was still royalty to monsters, and he didn't want to displease her anymore. 

"See?" Toriel grinned. "Now, I must be off, but do not be afraid to report to me should something go awry. I'll check in with the two of you in a bit." 

With that, Toriel started back down the hall in which they came, leaving Gerson and Sans alone. 

"Alrighty mister," Gerson said as he limped back into the room. "Le's see if we can find you a uniform." 

Sans followed. "A uniform?" 

Gerson looked at him pointedly. "You wouldn' want yer snazzy-lookin' outfit tah get dirty, would ya?" The conversation seemed pointless from there,  so Sans let it drop as Gerson poked around for a spare uniform for him. 

He vaguely wondered if there were anymore monsters in the building...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Gerson is hard >_< Nit even sure abiut his dialect, but I figure he's old so it fits to some degree. What do you guys think?
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos, guys! It really helps to keep me motivated!
> 
> Feedback is GREATLY appreciated :3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOW you meet Sans
> 
> And get ready for work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, just in case, the reader is supposedly female.
> 
> And a townhome, for those that don't know, is like a house, but cut down nearly half its size, depending on the area. I like to think of it like a combination of an apartment and a house

"God, if the air conditioning doesn't get fixed soon, I'm gonna melt!" Sami whined. She had sprawled herself out on the available bench in the studio, her head resting back on her bag as she covered her face with her arms. 

You weren't doing too better. Derek had insisted a throughout practice of the original routine, changing a few minor things here and there. From there, you two had run through what you had come up with so far another few times before the heat became too much. Now, you two were leaning against the far wall of the studio. Sweat had created a thin layer on your body, your hair was pulled back as much as you could manage, and you momentarily cursed yourself for forgetting to bring a spare change of clothes.

"It's only been out for a little bit," you reasoned. "I'm sure the janitor is doing his best to fix it."

"Yeah, well the monster needs to hurry up," Derek snapped. You blamed the rather rude comment on the heat. Even you were struggling to remain hopeful. "We've got enough problems with our routine, we don't need to put the risk of 'boiling in our own sweat' on the list!"

"It'll be fixed soon," you said again, hoping it would do something to calm him down. 

Unfortunately it didn't. Derek was on his feet, snatching up his discarded shirt and striding towards the door. "We're gonna have to do this later. I can't concentrate in this godforsaken heat!" 

The door slammed shut behind him, and for a second, you wanted to follow him, find your own escape from the heat. But you didn't feel like leaving just yet, nor did you feel like trying to convince him to stay and suffer. 

It was  ** _too hot._**

Finally, you stood to your feet, stripping off your outer shirt. Your undershirt, a black cami, was exposed, which nicely complemented the dark blue leggings you wore. You tossed your shirt over towards Sami, who let out a mutter of disapproval as she shifted sluggishly to look up at you. 

You ignored the pointed glare she gave to you, trying to keep your breath steady in effort to keep your body cool. You didn't come here to simple sit around and suffer, and you weren't about to go home just yet. Taking a swig of water, you sighed softly as you prepared yourself to go through the routine yourself. 

"Hate to bother you Sami," you said over your shoulder, "but could you reach over and play the song?"

Another grunt of disapproval echoed before you heard the audible click of the CD player. The opening beat of the song swelled throughout the room, and you took one final inhale before diving in again. 

* * *

 

Sans grumbled unhappily as he trudged down the hallway. His blue jacket and dark pants had been replaced by a faded green jumpsuit and thick rubber boots. The suit itself smelled awful, and the boots were clumpy and a size or two too big for his feet. It made it hard for him to walk properly, and the big fan in his arms made it all the more difficult. 

While the old tortoise fiddled with the air system, Sans was rewarded with his first job; to collect fans from storage and distribute them throughout the dance halls. The job absolutely sucked, for more than one reason. Not only did the heat cling to him and his jumpsuit, but the air smelled pungent with the aroma of body sweat and human body parts. 

If he had guts, he would've spilled them by now, thanks to his heightened monster senses. 

What was a relief however, was that this was the last studio he needed to visit. He hadn't seen anymore monsters yet, which both relieved and irritated him. He expected to see a more diverse view of the student body now, but at the same time he was glad for the lack of humiliation. He didn't want another monster to see him like this. 

The final studio he had to visit was one of the farthest ones he had seen yet. The others were crowded together, whilst this one was neatly tucked away between what was labeled as the choir room and the pottery room. 

The humans better be grateful he was nice enough to pity them enough to bring them a fan, too. 

Not to his surprise, he heard music faintly through the walls as he drew closer to the dance room. He didn't bother to look up once he entered the room, instead searching quietly for an outlet to plug the fan into so he could be done. 

"Pssst!! Over here!!" Sans looked up at the not-so-subtle whisper, where a young lady was sitting up on a bench. Her hair was gathered at the top of her head, and her skin was shiny with sweat. He sighed, lugging the fan over to the far wall, where she pointed out the nearest outlet, which also had another cord plugged into it. He knelt down after setting the fan carefully on the polished floor, plugging the machine in. 

"I don't think she's human," the girl whispered to him. 

Confused, Sans looked up at her. She pointed to the center of the floor, where he friend was dancing. "She's been doing that all day, even with the heat. I think she's trying to die from heatstroke." 

Sans wasn't listening too much anymore. He was looking over the young girl who had yet to pull herself from the routine she was doing, even for the sweet relief of cool air. One of his brows raised as he watched her for a few moments. 

Sure, she might've been good-looking for a human, but that wasn't why he stared. 

She was so  _stiff_.

Sans felt his face scrunch up in distaste as he watched her "dance". It was an insult to him and his friends, calling whatever she was doing dancing. 

The first young lady suddenly barked out a name, the music dying just as quickly. " Get your suicidal ass over here!" 

The other girl had (thankfully) stopped dancing, turning on her heel to face her friend, looking as if she was about to scold her. 

 

 

The words barely left your lips before you stopped, slightly puzzled by the scene. At first, you were expecting to see Sami, still whining through her agony,  begging for you to give it a rest and leave. Instead, she was curled up in front of a rather large fan, nearly embracing it as she cooed to herself in sweet relief.

And then you noticed the skeleton-like monster, who was staring at you. At least that's what you assumed. His eyes were two large holes, oitch black, with nothing but a small pinprick of light to indicate a pupil. His complexion resembled a skeleton's, besides the fact that his face looked malleable, and his mouth was capable of moving out of the typical permanent grin that a skeleton had. His expression was unreadable to you, and you began to feel awkward as he stared.

"Can I help you?" You asked suddenly, not caring if your tone came off as rude. 

He blinked, giving you another indication that his face was indeed flexible to some extent at least. 

"It's nothing," he finally said, tearing his gaze from you, his gaze now neutral. You weren't too surprised to see that he was a bit taller than you -- most of the human-like monsters were very tall. In fact, the Headmaster towered nearly two feet above you. 

When he started walking, you had to suppress a sudden burst of giggles that threatened to bubble from your lips. His boots were definitely a size or two bigger than what he needed and his gait was awkward and highly exaggerated as he tried to keep them on his feet. You instead snorted quietly, looking away as he made his way towards the door. 

"Thanks for the fan!" You called out after him. He didn't respond, and the door shut firmly behind him. 

* * *

_Was she mocking him?_

Sans couldn't help the embarrassed anger that flushed through him.

He wasn't ignorant to the fact that you had outright  _laughed_ at him, then proceeded to thank him for doing his job. It was probably just to humor him, he thought.

As if you had any reason to laugh at him. Your dancing was painful for him to watch. You were stiff, dead, and dreadfully awkward. The movements you did were forced and exaggerated. Dancing was supposed to be natural, an extension of yourself into the space around you, and the expression of your SOUL. Your dance was nowhere near natural. Heck, Mettaton was a robot, and he danced SO much better than you had. 

It was pitiful enough for him to consider helping you out. 

However, he wasn't interested in investing anymore time into snot-nosed humans who didn't realize how weak and pitiful they were compared to Monsters. 

This day was bad enough. He didn't want to consider willingly spending what was left of it with a human. 

* * *

 

Less than an hour later, you were leaving finally. Sami had given up half an hour ago and bid you farewell as she retreated back to her apartment to escape the heat. The fan was nice, but it could only do so much for so long. She was bored anyway, and you had to admit, so were you. You weren't used to dancing by yourself, and you didn't feel comfortable with the choreography in all honesty. A part of you hated that you had nothing to hide behind on stage now.

It wasn't like you were a terrible dancer, it was the routine itself. As much potential as it had, you just couldn't get into it as much as you wished you could. You couldn't figure out why.

It was closer to five in the afternoon when you left, your overshirt pulled on once again. The school itself was cleared out for the most part, and you could hear a soft melody in the distant halls from the ballet team's rehearsal.

You walked home in silence. The sun was beginning to sink beneath the horizon as you unlocked the doors to your comfortable townhome, which was tucked into a neat little neighborhood. It had taken a team effort between you and your parents to scrape together enough money to be able to get this for yourself, and you were very proud of it. Although paying the monthly rent on your own had gotten a bit difficult, you tried to comfort yourself with the thought that a few hours overtime would fix that minor issue. 

The door creaked shut behind you, and you secured it tightly before discarding your shoes and heading upstairs. The bathroom door opened and shut, and the shower head was soon spitting hot water. 

As you rinsed yourself of the stress and sweat of the day, stepping out after a bit to towel yourself off, you felt almost a million times better. You had a renewed energy as you dressed yourself.

Finally, half an hour later after you arrived home, you were on your way out again. You wore a white polo that was tucked in neatly to a pair of khakis, your shoes cloaked in a pair of gently worn black dress shoes. Your name tag was pinned to the right side of your shirt, and a thin jacket was pulled around your shoulders. 

You fell into step behind a rowdy group of teenagers, mentally preparing yourself for a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please give feedback! I GREATLY appreciate it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're at work
> 
> More Papyrus
> 
> And dealing with an angry Snas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just to clear things up, this may or may not line up with the "canon" Dancetale AU. I'll do my best, but most things might be twisted a bit to fit the story. I hope y'all still enjoy it!

"Paps, I'm not in the mood to do anything right now," Sans grumbled as Papyrus continued to haul him through the town. "I'm tired."

"I know brother," his comically younger brother said to him, continuing his stride. "However I must insist that you actually eat something for once. And because I, too am feeling a bit fatigued, I believe we should eat out tonight."

Sans grunted his acknowledgement. At the moment, he wasn't in any mood to argue with his brother. He was frustrated enough as it was; the people around them didn't attempt to shy away from their stares. Granted, they were quite the sight to behold: Papyrus towered over everyone like a gentle giant, still partially dressed in his casual business suit, his jacket and briefcase in one hand, the other holding Sans over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. But still, Sans had had enough staring and pointing and laughing to last him the rest of his existence.

Finally, Papyrus turned into one of the most popular joints in town. Sans' eyes lit up a bit as they entered, and grew brighter once Papyrus had set him on his feet. It was a place that was well-known for being highly accepting of monsters. The fact that the newest owner of the establishment was a monster, hired shortly after the human before him retired, made it all the better for the local monsters. In fact, Sans knew the owner personally; Grillby and him went way back, all the way back to the Underground.

"I didn't know you liked this place," Sans said.

Papyrus smiled down kindly at his brother. "While I admit that I am not too fond of this establishment," he started, "I would much rather prefer you to eat something for once. After all, I have leftovers in the fridge."

As Sans sat, he was reminded of his brother's kindness. His entire mood softened, and Sans smiled back. "Thanks, Pap."

Papyrus only smiled as he lead them towards a vacant booth towards the back. The place was immaculate, dividing itself into several different areas that were available to the customers; the dining area, the bar, and the dancefloor. Now that Sans was able to get a better look, he noticed the place closely resembled Grillby's previous joint in the Underground, the one Sans was almost always guaranteed to be. It made him feel at ease, seeing as it had been a while since he had seen his old friend, and even longer since he had eaten at this place. 

Not too long after they seated themselves, a waitress in a bright yellow polo and slacks visited their table, her smile bright underneath her aged features. She brushed back a lock of golden brown hair behind her ear as she greeted them warmly, unaffected by the fact that they were monsters. 

"What can I get for you two tonight?" 

Despite her kind tone, Sans insisted on a stiff-legged response, ordering a simple burger and fries with a bottle of ketchup. Papyrus, although put off by his brother's final request, ordered a plain glass of water. The waitress was unaffected by Sans' sourness as she jotted down her notes, pulling a folded card with a number out of her apron and setting it on their table. She turned on her heel, heading back to the kitchen with a bright promise to return shortly. 

Once she left, Sans took another look around the joint before getting to his feet. "Imma go bother Grillbz a bit," he said, walking off. 

Papyrus opened his jaw to protest, but snapped it shut with a sharp crack, allowing his brother to leave in peace. The taller skeleton fidgeted by himself for a few, his eyes nervously glancing down at the briefcase he set aside. Casting another glance towards the bar, where Sans was currently sitting, he reached over and pulled it up into his lap. He fished out a few papers, laying them across the table. It didn't tale him long to immerse himself in his work, occasionally glancing up to make sure his brother was distracted. He hardly noticed when the waitress did come back with his water and Sans' meal, and after he did he politely pointed her in Sans direction to make sure he had received his own food. For a while at least, Sans wouldn't be tempted to return to the table, and Papyrus wouldn't risk his brother finding him working outside his office again. 

Sans didn't like the gradual change in his brother's character. The chipper, more innocent side of his brother was worn down, shoved aside, and weighed down by a cruel and uncaring world. Papyrus seldom had time to himself anymore without a pile of paperwork looming over his shoulder. And when Sans approached him a while ago about it, Papyrus had become more careful about how much work he let himself do at home. It pushed him to stay up late, long after Sans had retired, all to finish his load for the day. After all, the company didn't care how much sleep he got, or how his health deteriorated. They didn't care if he was exhausted, or if he wanted (or needed) a break. Their only concern was that he was a monster, willing to do whatever paperwork came across his desk in order to keep his job, no matter how tedious. And without the proper laws to defend him, Papyrus was stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

He couldn't tell Sans this -- his older brother would make him quit, or get him fired because of hi crazy antics. Papyrus was fully aware that the company was taking advantage of him. However, he himself was the only reliable source of income for now; it was hard enough to ask Sans to behave himself, let alone ask him to keep a steady job, and under the humans he despised so much nonetheless.

Papyrus sighed at his paperwork, sliding another page aside as he continued to work.

* * *

 

 You mulled over the order brought to you by one of the waitresses. As you suspected, it called for a magic-infused dish that you as a human failed to qualify to make. Sighing, you handed over the paper to a furry outstretched hand. _Or paw_ , you corrected yourself.

The bipedal cat monster that stood before you, hunched over the grill, looked over the order himself. "Tonight's just not your night, huh buddy?" 

You muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes. This had been a constant occurrence for you now that your new boss had made a few changes to the menu. You didn't mind the change of pace, nor the diversity of the food or customers. The only problem was, as the only human fry cook, you were stuck with little more to do than to watch your monster partner do all the work. 

That didn't go say that you didn't like Burgerpants, because you really did. When he was first hired by Grillby, you two seemed like polar opposites; while you were moderately cool and collected, he seemed to short circuit more than most would. It wasn't until after you two had become friends that you learned he'd developed a nervous tick from his previous job in the Underground. Apparently, having an arrogant and uptight boss really did it in for you after a while. But luckily, BP was able to grow comfortable in this new atmosphere. You found that he easily matched your sarcastic quips and quirky comebacks, and you two were suddenly glad you were paired together. He was almost like a brother to you now, and he certainly treated you like a sister.

A younger sister, that is.

"Aww don't be like that," Burgerpants chuckled. "Look, if you really want something to do, why don't you go out there and making sure the customers are using that dancefloor like their supposed to." 

You considered it, noticing the tiniest twitches of BP's ears and tail; the only reminder left of his nervous tick.

"You sure you're gonna be okay by yourself?" You asked, although you were already hanging up your apron by the door.

"I'll be fine," he answered over his shoulder. "I'm just tryin' to survive, is all. Who cares if I do all the work myself?" 

Despite his words, you could hear his tone dripping with sarcasm. He was perfectly capable of handling the orders on his own, magical or not. He'd been doing it for years. Still, you replied,  "Now BP, you know you're the most talented one here with food. We all know the restaurant would be nothing without you." 

BP snorted at that, turning a bit to face you. His mouth was twisted into a frown, but you knew he was trying not to laugh by the twitch of his whiskers. "Stroking my ego isn't gonna get any work done, buddy, " he said.

"I'm going, I'm going, " you chuckled as you walked out the kitchen and prep area. You're still in uniform, but you untuck your shirt and unpin your name tag from your shirt. At least this way, you looked less like one of the employees.

As usual, its bustling modestly with energy in the front area. Monsters of every shape and size are gathered here, and you can't help but notice that the dancefloor has obtained more groups of talkers than dancers, even with the soft strums of music in the background.

You're about to fix that.

Sauntering over to the jukebox, you browse a bit to choose a song you like. All the while, you're glancing around, trying to pick out your first "victim". It wasn't a mystery that monsters loved to dance,  and the fact that they weren't doing what they loved most right now was beyond you. But, as you found a song you could work with, you noticed pleasantly that some of the customers looked interested.

Scanning the crowd, you picked out a rather tall skeleton, who was bent over hat appeared to you as a mountain of paperwork. You could see, however, that although his features looked firmly concentrated, his foot tapped to the beat of the song earnestly.

You could feel the grin splitting your face as you approach him quickly. He looked up at you after you clear your throat. Thin-rimmed glassed are perched on the edge of his nasal cavity, and his expression seems confused.

"Would you like to dance with me?" You offer, holding your hand out to him.

His eyes light up with a fleeting excitement as he looks down at your outstretched hand. He reigns in that excitement quickly, however. "My apologies, human, but it has been far too long since I have partaken in such an activity, and I have far too much work to do-" 

"Please?" You don't know why you're pushing, but something inside you wants to give this poor skeleton a break. He looks exhausted,  and you vaguely wonder how he keeps himself together, and not just literally. "Just one dance?"

He considers it, staring at you for a moment. Even sitting, his face is nearly level to yours. Suddenly, his eyes glance over towards the bar, but before you can even question it, his eyes are on you again. You haven't retracted your hand just yet.

Finally, he grasps your hand, standing to his feet. He's _really_ tall, enough so that your head never makes it past his chest. Regardless,  when you look up at him, he looks cheerful, excited, and maybe even a little relieved.

"Forgive me in advance, human," he starts off a bit nervous, "for I may start of a bit rusty..." 

"Nonsense, " you smile at him. "I think you're gonna be great." 

At that, there's nothing stopping the skeleton from pulling you towards the dancefloor eagerly.

* * *

 

Sans has his boney hand wrapped around the neck of an almost empty liquor bottle, his chin resting against the palm of his free hand. The effects of the alcohol are like a long-lost friend, helping him to forget whatever has been bothering him all day. The liquor isn't strong, persay, but it gives him enough of a buzz to allow him to shove aside his frustrations for now. He just wanted to relish in it.

A persistent warm light filled Sans' line of vision, obscuring him from browsing the bottles in front of him. Glancing up, Sans noticed his old pal looking down at him.

"Ayyy Grillbz!" He straightened a bit, his free hand now resting against the surface of the bar. The other hand curls inwards a bit to keep the bottle close. He takes a heavy drink of it, setting the bottle down with a heavy thud, sighing with content.

Grillby seems to roll his nonexistent eyes, his bodily flames crackling and sputtering like a real fire. As his hand brushes against the wood of the bar, however, it doesn't leave so much as a trace. He gently removes the bottle from Sans' grasp, tossing whatever is left of it into the trashcan.

"I was drinkin' that," Sans slurred.

"You don't need any more," Grillby said firmly, his voice smooth and unwavering.

"I paid good money for that shi-"

"Sans you didn't pay a dime, " Grillby stopped him. "You haven't bothered to pay for the last 'little' drink you had."

"Grillbz, I don't need you tellin' me what I can and can't do," Sans hiccupped. "I get enough of that from the humans."

Around him, the humans that heard his comment started to whisper amongst themselves, which riled the skeleton up even more so. Before a word could slip between his teeth, however, a series of cheers and laughter caught his attention.

Sans turned in his seat, sobering up quickly at the sight.

* * *

 

The skeleton was far from rusty.

He guided you through the more complicated dance steps and twists that leave your head spinning. But you're having a wonderful time, and several other groups have joined in. You've managed to match his rhythm and speed, learning quickly that his preferred style was of Latin roots. You mimicked his own moves, twisting your hips and letting yourself be lost to the swell of music.

After the final dip of the song, and the skeleton had helped you upright, you realized just how breathless you were.

"Marvelous, human!" Your partner congratulated you, unwinded. "I have never met a human with your ability to match my speed and agility as well as you have!" 

Even with his slightly egotistical praise, you took it gratefully, thanking him politely. "My name is _____ , by the way,  so you don't have to keep calling me 'human', "

"And you may call me Papyrus!" He said happily, shaking your hand.

Suddenly, a force shoved you back a few feet.

 

**g e t y o u r d i r t y h a n d s o f f m y b r o t h e r h u m a n**

 

You flinched at the deep hiss that shook you to your core. Looking up, you noticed another skeleton, now standing between you and Papyrus, eye sockets dark.

Wasn't he the new janitor...?

"Sans!" Papyrus exclaimed. "How dare you treat my friend that way!" 

Slowly, you watched Sans' features relax enough to bring back the lights in his eyes. "We're going home, Papyrus," he muttered, turning away from you and pulling Papyrus with him. Now seeming to notice his brothers fowl mood, Papyrus didn't interject, instead sending an apologetic smile towards you.

"Farewell for now, _____!" Papyrus bid you happily. "I hope we'll meet again soon!"

"You can bet on it!" You called after him, feeling your grin again. Sans sent you a glare.

Oh, if looks could kill...

Sans was all to eager to leave the joint, making sure you weren't following them as the door shut behind them, leaving you amidst the rest of the dancing monsters, who had continued their enjoyment.

You tried to consider why Sans, the janitor, was so cross with _you_. Shouldn't it have been the other way around? After all, it was he who had gotten himself in trouble in the first place.

The memory of earlier hit you then, of you laughing at him. A thread of guilt rushed through you, and you only assumed that was the reason he was so mad. 

But, then again, what if he was only trying to "protect" his brother, even if you showed no sign of being a threat?

Either way, you were on Sans' bad side, and you had a feeling it was in your best interest to be nicer to him. And you had to admit, it was a jerky move to laugh at his unfortunate circumstances,  even if they were his fault.

But what could you do? It wasn't like you could afford to buy a new pair of boots, especially for him. What if he just threw them to the side anyway?

You hummed in thought as you pondered the situation.

Spending a bit of down time watching BP cook was sounding pretty enticing right about now...

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
